Might it be delineated in the throes of passion, or a keen understanding of an event, covetousness for an inanimate object, a déjà vu experience, ambition, redemption, or simply a developed form of comfort called familiarity?

Whatever it is, Love is huge. Or can it possess very little and still exist? Perhaps love is indefinable. Nonetheless, isn’t it attractive and all-consuming to explore its meaning…from the latent to colorful ways…

And how human are we to describe something that largely beggars description.